Destined – A Marriage of Convenience Love Story: Chapter 13

This is part 14 of 14 in the book Destined: A Marriage of Convenience

Destined: A Marriage of Convenience

Destined – A Marriage of Convenience Love Story: Life Together

9,617 words, 51 minutes read time.

A Marriage of Convenience Love Story Set in Kolkata

Destined: A Marriage of Convenience Love Story – Chapter 13
The Separation

Don’t forget to read Chapter 12 of Destined: A Marriage of Convenience.

https://payaldedhia.com/destined-a-marriage-of-convenience-love-story-chapter-12

Destined – A Marriage of Convenience Love Story

Abhoy

“Tell me,” I pressed, waiting for her answer.

We were in the car, outside Mehek’s father’s house. I didn’t want to let her go tonight, but I had nothing to stop her with. I was sure she must have packed her laptop as well.

If she could work from here, there was nothing that was calling her back.

I could take her laptop back; after all, I had given it to her. But that would be a low blow. And I wasn’t a bad person; I just… I just couldn’t give myself to her. Or let her inside my heart, more than she already was.

“When are you returning?” I repeated, my tone slightly on edge now.

My heart had nearly stopped beating. My own ragged breathing echoed in my ears, and I was terrified I would miss even a single word Mehek said.

“I’ll go inside,” she replied quietly. “Then I’ll decide when I want to return. You cannot force me to tell you that right now. Whenever I’m ready to return to this nonsense of a marriage, I will.”

I closed my eyes for a brief second. I hated that she wouldn’t give me a straight answer. And I absolutely didn’t like when she insulted our relationship.

Nothing in my life had been simple since I married Mehek. She was… a tsunami that swept through every wall I had carefully built over the years. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t predict her, couldn’t contain her, couldn’t prepare myself for what she would say next.

“Mehek, this isn’t your home anymore,” I reminded her, keeping my voice steady.

A hollow laugh escaped her. “Oh, don’t I know that?” She looked away for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “But let me tell you… even your house isn’t mine.”

Her voice cracked. “I have no house.” She swallowed hard. “I have nothing that’s truly my own. And this isn’t just my story, it’s a story of every woman.”

The words settled heavily between us. I sighed. She wasn’t wrong.

The house we lived in belonged to Baba. But I owned several properties in my own name. Apartments. Commercial spaces. Investments accumulated over years of work.

Mehek… she had nothing. No place she could truly call hers.

“Maybe I can rectify that,” I said quietly.

“I don’t want your money.”

Before I could respond, she stepped out of the car. And I followed immediately.

“Mehek,” I called, but she hurried towards the entrance.

Just as she reached the door, it opened from inside. Her mother stood there, smiling warmly. The moment she saw me, I straightened instinctively, smoothing every trace of tension from my face before forcing a small smile.

“Jamaiji,” she said warmly, “please come inside.”

I shook my head and bent to touch her feet. “No. It’s late. I’ll leave from here. I just wanted to make sure she reaches home safely.”

Her mother’s eyes twinkled as she smiled, liking that I cared for her daughter. I did. Really. There was no doubt that I cared for Mehek. She was vulnerable; her every outburst was out of fear of letting her heart out in the open. I knew that. It didn’t take a genius to know Mehek hated someone showing her pity.

I sighed, letting it go. Straightening, I looked past her mother. “Mehek…”

She turned. Her chin remained stubbornly lifted, the glare in her eyes making another weary sigh escape me.

“Enjoy your time,” I said. “And call me when you’re ready to return.”

She didn’t answer. She only gave a small nod before turning her back on me and walking inside. As the door remained open, my eyes briefly met her mother’s. Concern flashed across her face. A faint frown appeared, as though she had sensed something wasn’t right.

I smiled. It wasn’t my best smile. But it was enough. Almost immediately, some of the worry disappeared from her face. Satisfied that I hadn’t burdened her with more questions, I turned around and walked back to my car.

The drive home felt longer than usual. The roads were nearly empty, yet every traffic signal seemed determined to keep me waiting.

By the time I reached home, I was exhausted. But the lights in the living room were still on, and I knew Mom was waiting for me.

She always waited.

“What happened?” She asked before I had even stepped fully inside.

I entered the house and found her standing near the sofa, worry written all over her face.

“Beta, what happened?” she asked again when I remained silent.

I placed my laptop bag on the couch before sinking into it, leaning my head back against the cushion.

“Nothing.”

She smiled knowingly. “You miss Mehek already?”

I didn’t answer. Because the truth was far worse. Deep inside, somewhere I didn’t want to acknowledge, I had a sinking feeling that Mehek wasn’t coming back.

Not after everything that had happened today, and I had confessed to her something I shouldn’t have. The thought lodged itself in the pit of my stomach, refusing to leave.

Now she knew there was a woman between us, and that for sure could be the reason for ending all of this, whatever we had tried to create in the past six months. I had tried to give her everything other than me.

But I couldn’t tell Maa that. Not yet. So I simply shook my head and stood.

“Just tired,” I said. “I had dinner already, so I’m going upstairs.”

She nodded, though the smile lingering on her face carried a hint of relief that I didn’t deserve.

I quietly climbed the stairs and pushed open our bedroom door. The room greeted me with silence. For the first time since our marriage… the space actually felt empty.

I stood there for a long moment, my eyes wandering across the room before they settled on the walk-in wardrobe. I had given it entirely to Mehek. I knew wardrobes mattered to women. Space for their clothes, their jewelry, their little collections.

At least… I had assumed they did. Yet none of it had been enough to make her stay.

I pushed open the wardrobe door. Her clothes still hung neatly where she had left them. The familiar scent of jasmine lingered faintly in the air.

I entered the combination of the safe, and opened it. Every piece of jewelry was still there. She hadn’t taken anything.

But she could always come back for it later. With her family. And mine. Then everyone would know. Maa and Baba would know that Mehek and I never truly shared a marriage. They would know why I had replaced the couch with a larger one or… why we had lived like strangers inside the same room.

Maa believed I had finally moved on from Yagini.

She believed time had healed me. But it hadn’t. Or… maybe it had. Because tonight, despite everything… my thoughts weren’t with Yagini. They were with Mehek.

I just wanted her to come back. The life I had given her wasn’t perfect. But it wasn’t terrible either. Still… she was gone. I rubbed a hand over my face, exhaustion pressing down on me.

What was I supposed to tell Maa and Baba now?

Mehek had asked me for one thing. A chance. And I had refused to give it to her. Now, if this marriage fell apart, my entire family would carry the consequences of my decision.

For years I had refused to marry, ignoring every proposal they brought to me.

When I finally did… I had failed.

If people started talking, it wouldn’t stop with me. Questions would reach my sisters too. Their futures, their marriages, their happiness could all become harder because of the mistakes I had made.

All because I couldn’t give Mehek the one thing she had asked for.

A chance.

Mehek

A week had passed. Yes… a whole week.

Could anyone believe that?

Seven days, and my parents still hadn’t asked me when I was going back.

The last time I came home, barely two months into my marriage, Maa had started reminding me to return to my sasural on the second day itself. She hadn’t been rude about it, but the message had been clear enough.

And I had gone. Mostly because I had been too angry to stay. This time was different.

Every morning I woke expecting the conversation to happen, yet it never did. The silence itself had begun to feel strange. It wasn’t relief anymore. It was anticipation, like waiting for a storm that everyone knew was coming but no one wanted to acknowledge.

Still…I knew my days here were numbered.

Sooner or later, they would ask me to return so they could resume their own lives without carrying the weight of my broken marriage under their roof.

And I couldn’t even blame them. I really couldn’t.

But… what about my happiness?

When was I supposed to think about that?

No one else seemed interested in doing it for me. Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe that responsibility had always been mine.

“Priyo, tea. What do you want for breakfast?”

Maa’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Anything is okay, Maa.”

“Tell me.”

I let out a small sigh. “Masala paratha. I’ll have tea with it.”

“Okay.”

She disappeared into the kitchen just as Baba walked into the dining room. His eyes landed on me for a brief moment before he immediately looked away. I frowned. Something was definitely wrong. Usually he would ask about my work or remind me to eat properly before leaving for the office, but today he simply adjusted the strap of his bag.

“Indu, I’m leaving.”

From the kitchen, Maa reminded him to travel safely. Before stepping outside, Baba looked at me once again. There was hesitation in his eyes, almost guilt, before he quietly left the house.

Today was my last day here.

I didn’t know how I knew it.

I just did.

Baba had never confronted me directly. He never dared to. Whenever difficult conversations had to happen, Maa became the messenger. She always had.

I unlocked my phone and opened the message thread with my husband.

Abhoy: When are you coming?

Mehek: Why do you care?

Abhoy: I do. Come back, and we can start planning your MBA.

Mehek: You cannot buy my return, Mr. Chatterjee.

Abhoy: I don’t even know what to tell you. This will escalate faster than you think. Come back. Don’t give your parents sleepless nights.

Mehek: You don’t need to worry about my parents. You can call your girlfriend and fulfil whatever you get from keeping me at your place in a loveless marriage.

Abhoy: How dare you. I told you that’s my past, not my present.

Mehek: That very girl stops you from truly moving on, so how can she be in your past. She’s your present, and you can make her your future. I will let you go and find your happiness even after you destroyed my life.

That had been the last message. He hadn’t replied after that, and it had already been two days. I didn’t know whether he was angry or whether I had finally said something that had left him with no answer.

Maa returned carrying a plate with a hot masala paratha, aloo curry, and a steaming cup of tea. The aroma should have made me hungry, but instead it reminded me of mornings from another lifetime, when life had still felt simple.

She sat beside me while I ate, unusually quiet. I could feel her eyes following every bite I took. Neither of us spoke until I had finished the last piece of paratha and drained my cup of tea.

“Is there a problem?” I finally asked, placing the empty cup on the table. “You’ve been looking at me strangely.”

She held my gaze. “You tell me. Is there?”

I shrugged. “No.”

“Priyo…” She folded her hands in her lap and let out a slow breath. “We’ve tried to be very understanding these past few days.”

I looked at her in disbelief. “What does that mean, Maa? You’ve tried to be? Aren’t parents supposed to be understanding? Especially when it comes to their children?”

She sighed, and suddenly she looked much older than she had a week ago. “If you won’t tell me what’s wrong, how will I help you?”

“I don’t want to keep talking about what’s wrong.” My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. “I want to live in the present. In the future.”

“And neither your present nor your future is here, Mehek.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Wow. So this is it. The deadline.”

“If you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” she said gently, “then I want you to return to your house.”

The words hit me harder than I expected.

“But I don’t have one.”

“Mehek…”

“What?” My voice cracked despite my efforts to stay composed. “This isn’t my house anymore. And that isn’t my house either.” I looked straight into her eyes as tears blurred my vision. “So where exactly am I supposed to return?”

For a long moment, she simply stared at me. Then she quietly stood up and held out her hand. I placed mine in hers without a word. She led me to the bedroom, sat down on the bed, and gently pulled me towards her until my head rested on her lap.

Her fingers slipped into my hair and began stroking it the way she used to when I was a little girl who believed every problem could be solved if her mother held her close. The gentle rhythm of her hand loosened something inside me that I had been holding together for days.

“I need to know what has happened,” she said softly.

I pressed my lips together, determined not to cry. But the first tear escaped anyway, sliding silently down my cheek.

Traitor. The next moment, I broke.

A sob tore out of me before I could stop it. I turned and buried my face in Maa’s lap, clutching the edge of her saree as I cried. The tears came in waves, shaking my entire body. My chest hurt, my throat burned, but I couldn’t stop. It felt as though everything I had swallowed over the past six months was finally pouring out.

“Beta, what happened?” she asked, one hand rubbing slow circles on my back.

“He loves someone else,” I managed to whisper between sobs.

Her hand froze. Slowly, I lifted my head from her lap and looked at her. Her eyes had widened in disbelief. She gently made me sit up before wiping my face with the pallu of her saree, just as she had done countless times when I was a child. Then she cupped my face between her palms.

“Tell me everything,” she said quietly. “Did you see him with someone else?”

I shook my head.

“Did you hear him talking to another woman?”

Again, I shook my head.

She frowned, trying to make sense of it all. “Did he… did he have her photograph? Did you see him looking at her?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maa…” My voice trembled again. “He kissed me.”

Her expression shifted instantly from concern to surprise. Her lips parted as though she wanted to say something, but no words came out for a few seconds.

“Beta…” she said carefully, choosing every word. “You are married. He can… he can kiss you.”

I shook my head firmly. “No. Not when we sleep in separate beds.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”

I looked down at my hands resting in my lap. “It’s not a marriage built on love.” A hollow laugh escaped me. “It’s just… a show. It’s a fake marriage.”

“Priyo,” she said gently, “tell me everything.”

I took a deep breath before speaking.

“He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t want me. We got married because his parents wanted him to get married.” My voice cracked. “And my parents…” I looked at her with tears filling my eyes once again. “They didn’t even ask me what I wanted.”

Maa’s own eyes brimmed with tears.

“So…” she whispered, “he doesn’t want you?”

I shook my head. “No. He doesn’t.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “And I’m not going back. Whatever happens.”

The words came out steadier now.

“If you can’t let me stay here, I’ll find a way to live on my own. I’ll do something. But I’m not going back.”

I paused before continuing.

“Yes, he helped me with my business. He gave me ideas. He wants me to study further, to do an MBA. He wants me to grow. He wants me to become something. But… he doesn’t love me.”

Maa remained quiet for a long moment before speaking.

“Love…” she said softly, almost to herself. “In our generation, in our traditions, it was rarely spoken aloud. It was always silent.”

“Maa…”

“Don’t misunderstand me.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m not asking you to go back.”

I looked at her silently.

“But love has many forms, Priyo. Taking care of someone… wanting them to become better… wanting them to succeed… those are also forms of love.”

She brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Just because he hasn’t told you he loves you doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t.”

“But he loves someone else.”

There was no hesitation in my voice this time.

“And that,” Maa admitted quietly, “is a problem.”

She fell silent, her brows knitting together. “I’ll speak to your Baba.”

She stopped for a moment before looking directly into my eyes.

“But tell me honestly… you’re not lying to me, are you?”

“Huh?”

“Does he really love someone else?”

I stared at her. “Of course I’m not lying.” My voice rose in disbelief. “He told me himself. He told me he has another woman in his life and that he married me because of his parents. They forced him.”

The memory still hurt. “He told me there’s someone else. But he also told me he isn’t in touch with her. He hasn’t spoken to her since before we met.”

“And do you believe him?”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell her he was lying. But… I couldn’t.

Slowly, I nodded. “I do.”

Maa looked thoughtful. “If he doesn’t speak to her… if she isn’t part of his life anymore… then we cannot accuse him of anything.”

“But he told me he loves her.”

“Yes. And yet she doesn’t exist in his present life.” Maa’s voice was calm now. “What does that tell you?”

I looked away. “That…” I whispered after a long pause. “If I leave him… if I set him free… maybe he’ll go back to her.”

My chest tightened again. “Then what about us? From the very first day of our marriage, he slept on the couch.”

I looked back at Maa.

“And then one morning… he violated me.” The word tasted bitter. “He kissed me without my permission. So tell me… first you choose to sleep on the couch every single night. Then you suddenly kiss your wife. And after that, you confess that you love another woman.”

I searched her face for an answer. “How does that make any sense?”

For the first time since our conversation had begun, Maa had no reply. She simply looked at me… long and hard. Then, after several silent moments, she gave a slow nod.

“I understand,” she whispered.

She sat beside me for a while longer, quietly stroking my hair. Neither of us spoke again. The silence no longer felt heavy. It felt tired.

After some time, she stood and quietly left the room. I remained sitting on the bed, staring at the floor. For the first time in months, I felt lighter. The pain was still there. Nothing had changed. But someone else finally knew the truth. I wasn’t carrying it alone anymore.

Later that day, I was busy making another piece of jewelry when my phone rang.

The tiny beads shimmered beneath the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window as I carefully threaded them together. It was an intricate design I had learned in Panchgani, one that demanded complete concentration. I glanced at the caller ID and immediately wrinkled my nose.

Abhoy.

I let it ring and returned to my work, pretending it didn’t exist. The call disconnected after a few moments, and I smiled faintly to myself, relieved.

But barely a second later, the phone began ringing again. I sighed, put my tools aside, wiped my fingers on a cloth, and picked up the phone.

“What?” I snarled as I hit the green button.

“Fine.”

“What?” I asked, confused. Fine? For what?

“Fine,” he repeated quietly. “I’ll give us a chance.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Too late for that.”

Silence stretched between us. I could hear his breathing on the other end before his voice returned, much quieter this time.

“What does that mean?”

“I told Maa everything.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

There was another pause, longer than the last one.

“Mehek,” he said carefully, “I told you no one should know what happens between us in the bedroom.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Well, I’m way past your threats now. They worked that day. They won’t work today.” My gaze drifted towards the window where the evening breeze gently moved the curtains. Somehow the room felt lighter now that I wasn’t carrying everything alone. “Anyway, it’s over. We’re done.”

“Are you insane?” His voice rose instantly. “We’re married. Marriage isn’t over just because one person says it’s over.” He exhaled heavily before continuing, sounding as though he was trying to stay calm. “Look, I told you I’ll give us a chance. What more do you want?”

“I don’t want you anymore.”

The words hurt to say, but they also brought a strange sense of relief.

“You really think your parents will agree to a divorce?” he asked after a moment. “Your Kaka will let you do it, knowing that I’ll take over his business?”

My brows drew together. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, Mehek. I’m not.” His tone slowed, becoming almost unnervingly calm. “The house you’re staying in… it’s in the company’s name. And if I take over your Kaka’s business, the house will become mine too.”

I froze.

My eyes slowly lifted to the freshly painted wall in front of me, the same wall Baba had insisted on repainting before my wedding. I had always believed this house belonged to us. To Baba. To our family. The realization settled over me like cold water.

I hadn’t known.

I hadn’t known Baba didn’t actually own this house.

Was that why he always listened to Kaka without arguing? Was that why he never stood up to him? All these years I had thought Baba was weak, but maybe he wasn’t weak at all. Maybe he had simply been trapped, living under someone else’s mercy.

“I had no idea,” I whispered, my voice shaking with disbelief, “that you would stoop so low.”

“Mehek,” he said immediately. “Come back. We can give this thing a real try. I’m ready.”

“Thing?” I asked coldly.

“I meant this marriage.”

“Why don’t you marry the one you love?”

“Because I can’t.” His answer came without hesitation. “You’re my wife, and you’ll always be my wife.”

For the briefest moment, my resolve faltered. There was something in his voice, something desperate enough to make me wonder if he truly meant it. Did he really want to try now? Had something changed?

But then he tried to destroy my family; he threatened to take my home, put my parents on the road. That was not how someone showed that they want to try.

“Sorry,” I replied quietly, forcing myself to stay firm. “I’m not interested in staying with someone who’s willing to make my parents homeless.”

“Mehek… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I would never actually do that.”

“Really?” I asked. “Then why did you say it?”

He stayed silent for several seconds before answering.

“Because I’m desperate. You don’t want me. You don’t want my money. You don’t want anything I’m trying to give you.” He let out a tired breath, and for the first time he sounded defeated. “I just… I really want you to come back. And I promise you, I’ll give this relationship, our marriage, a real chance. Whoever belonged to my past, I’ll try not to let even the memories come between us anymore. I haven’t met her since you entered my life, and I never will. It’s just you in my life, always will be.”

I didn’t know what to say. A part of me wanted to believe him. A part of me still missed him. It missed his sighs, the way he quietly looked after everyone around him, the rare smiles he never realized he gave. That foolish part of my heart wanted to accept his promise.

But I hardened my heart. Because he held his power over me, and I won’t let him take advantage of me anymore. I just won’t.

I closed my eyes for a second before forcing my heart to harden.

“You know what, Mr. Abhoy Chatterjee,” I said calmly, “do whatever you want. At least this way my whole family will finally see your true face. They’ll see how you’re trying to blackmail me. I’m just twenty-two. I love my parents with everything I have, but I can’t save them.”

My eyes drifted towards the bookshelf in my room where one particular book still lay.

“The book you asked me to read, How to Be Successful… I finished it. One line stayed with me.” I tightened my grip around the phone. “Stand for yourself. Only then can you stand for the world.”

I took a slow breath before continuing.

“And this time, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m not returning. I’m never coming back.”

Without giving myself a chance to change my mind, I disconnected the call.

For several long moments, I simply stared at the black screen of my phone. My hand trembled slightly, but there was no regret. I had tried, I had begged, but he had always carelessly broken my heart.

I loved him. Oh God… I loved him so much. But he… he loved someone else. And this was the best for both of us. If I set him free, he can without feeling guilty go back to her. And that’s the best for both of us.

Two more weeks passed.

Life quietly settled into a routine I hadn’t expected. I often heard Baba talking to my father-in-law over the phone, their voices low enough that I couldn’t make out the words. I never tried to eavesdrop. Whatever was happening between the families was happening without dragging me into the middle of it, and for the first time in my life, no one expected me to become the understanding one. No one asked me to compromise. No one reminded me that a married woman’s place was in her husband’s home.

I liked that.

Most days, I stayed in my room. Every morning I went for a walk before the streets became crowded, letting the cool breeze clear my head. A few new orders had finally started coming in, so my afternoons were spent making jewelry, packaging parcels, and updating customers. The work kept my hands busy, even if my mind often wandered elsewhere.

Abhoy never contacted me again after that phone call.

Not once.

At first, I kept checking my phone without realizing it. Every vibration made my heart leap before disappointment settled in. Eventually, I stopped expecting his name to appear on the screen. Maybe he had finally understood that he couldn’t force me to come back.

It had been almost eight months since our wedding.

And three weeks since I had left.

A knock came, breaking my thoughts, and then my bedroom door opened. It was Maa.

“Priyo, get ready.”

I looked up from the necklace I was polishing. “What? For what?”

“We’re going to Kaka’s house. Rohil has come home for the holidays. We’re having dinner there.”

“No, Maa.” I swallowed hard. “Kaka will…”

She walked over and sat beside me before I could finish. “No one will say anything to you,” she said firmly. “I won’t let them.”

She squeezed my hand. “Your Baba is also on your side this time. When you were gone, he really missed you. He realized how much he loved you. And we trust you. We won’t rush this anymore. If this marriage is meant to survive, it will. And if it isn’t…” She paused for a moment before continuing. “You’re not an unwanted burden for us, Priyo. You’re our daughter. If we have to, we’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives.”

Tears streamed down my eyes before I could stop them. “I miss him, Maa.”

Her expression softened instantly. She didn’t look surprised. Instead, her own eyes glistened, though she blinked the tears away before they could fall.

“I know,” she whispered. “I see love in your eyes. Whatever you decide, whatever you want us to decide, remember one thing… love is of many forms. Your Baba… he has never told me he loves me… and that’s such a silly thing to think about now because I’ve never needed to hear the words. I’ve always known.”

I remained quiet. Maa smiled. “Get ready. We leave in ten minutes.”

Maa left, and I walked towards my small cupboard. Over there, I had a walk-in wardrobe. I didn’t even know those things existed.

I had fewer options, as most of my clothes were there. But I picked a white kurta and cotton pajamas. I changed and then tied my hair in a bun. That’s it. I was ready to go.

I was excited to meet Romil. He had messaged me a few times last week since he returned, but I hadn’t replied, knowing what he wanted to know. But if my parents stood by me, I didn’t need to avoid anyone.

Thirty minutes later, we reached Kaka’s home. It was a raw house.

The familiar three-story home stood exactly as I remembered it. The ground floor had a spacious living room that flowed into an open kitchen. The first floor belonged entirely to Kaka, with a large sitting area attached to an enormous bedroom. The second floor was Romil’s kingdom, complete with his own gym and private space.

Even without a large front yard, the house carried an air of wealth. Compared to our modest home, it looked like a king’s palace. A few months ago, I might have felt small walking through these doors.

Today, I felt nothing. After living in Abhoy’s luxurious bungalow, grand houses no longer impressed me. Marble floors, chandeliers, expensive paintings, sprawling gardens… none of it had been enough to make me stay.

Luxury had never been my weakness. Happiness was. Kaka looked at me the moment we stepped inside. His gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary.

I looked away without acknowledging him. He was probably worried about his business. If Abhoy really decided to pull the rug out from beneath him, everything Kaka had built could disappear overnight.

For the first time, I found that I couldn’t bring myself to care. For years, I had shaped my life around everyone else’s expectations. Now, all I wanted was my own peace.

I walked towards the sitting area. Then my feet stopped moving, my mouth opening in shock.

Abhoy. He was sitting on one of the sofas, dressed in a crisp navy-blue shirt with the sleeves folded neatly to his forearms. He looked up at the exact same moment and met my eyes.

He stared back at me, an eyebrow raised.

Even my mother sucked in a breath beside me. But that might be just for the show.

“Did you know?” I hissed into her ear.

She shook her head, still looking bewildered. I turned to Baba and even he looked baffled.

“Dada…” Baba began hesitantly.

Kaka simply raised his hand, silencing him before he could say another word.

“He’s here as my business associate,” Kaka said matter-of-factly. “He wanted to meet Romil since he’ll be taking over the business one day.”

The explanation sounded perfectly reasonable. Too reasonable. Baba looked at Kaka for a moment before quietly nodding.

He didn’t question him. He never would. Whether Kaka was right or wrong, Baba would never challenge his elder brother in front of everyone. Some habits had become too old to break.

Letting it go, I walked across the living room and deliberately chose the sofa on the opposite side, taking the seat tucked away in the far corner. The distance between us wasn’t much, but it felt necessary. If I couldn’t avoid seeing my husband, I could at least avoid being near him.

Baba folded his hands politely in front of Abhoy.

Before Baba could say anything, Abhoy immediately stood up. Without a moment’s hesitation, he bent to touch Baba’s feet, then turned and did the same to Maa. She seemed caught off guard. Her hand hovered in the air for a second before she gently rested it on his head, blessing him with a soft touch. Her smile was polite, but I knew her well enough to notice the uncertainty behind it.

“Sis… how are you?”

I turned at the familiar voice.

“Romil…”

The next moment, I was wrapped in my brother’s arms.

The tightness in my chest eased almost instantly. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against him. For a few precious seconds, I forgot where I was. Conversations continued around us, voices rising and falling in the background, but they became nothing more than meaningless noise. I shut them all out and simply let myself breathe.

Romil tightened his arm around me.

“Let’s go,” he murmured.

Without looking at anyone else, I followed him upstairs. We climbed to the second floor and entered his room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, the walls I had spent weeks building around myself finally crumbled.

I broke down.

A sob escaped before I could stop it, and I buried my face against his shoulder.

Romil didn’t speak.

He simply held me.

I cried until my head throbbed and my throat burned. I hated myself for it. I hated feeling this weak. I wanted to be stronger than this. I wanted to be someone who could walk away without looking back.

But I was lost.

Completely lost.

I missed my new home; I missed my life there. My in-laws were the best, especially my mother-in-law. She never taunted me like normal mothers-in-law do, or never expected much from me. She loved me; she cared for me.

But I… I left like a coward. I hadn’t spoken to her after that, not once.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing.”

“Mehek, I’m your outlet. Tell me, I won’t judge you.”

Then I told him, I told him what happened before the wedding, what happened after. I told him everything. I told him Abhoy could never fully accept this marriage, or ever love me, because he loved someone else.

Romil didn’t interrupt me once. He heard everything silently. I stopped talking after a while, and we sat in silence. I was still in his arms, and I liked it.

“Did he tell you who she was?” he asked slowly.

I shook my head. He pulled away, and I frowned, not really wanting to lose his warmth.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and typed my husband’s name on the Google search bar. The usual info came, but he surpassed that and went to page two, then three.

I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

A few seconds later, I heard him suck in a sharp breath, and my eyes flew open.

“What is it?”

Before he could answer me, a knock came, and the door opened. Abhoy stood there. I felt like I had been gutter punched. I shot up, turning and glaring at my brother.

“Sorry…” he told me. Then turned to Abhoy. “Tell her everything, or I do.”

With that, he turned and left. Abhoy closed the door, and now I was alone with him. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to be close to him. He had dark circles… dark brown smudges under his eyes, and the stubble… it had grown uneven.

His eyes… they were… hollow. Empty. Dead. I couldn’t see him like this. It made me weak, and I didn’t want to be weak. At least, not in front of him. I won’t ever be vunerable in front of him again. I had done that, and he had rejected me. Not again, not ever.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Here to talk about the divorce?”

“I won’t divorce you, Mehek.” His voice was calm, almost emotionless. “You can take me to court, that’s your choice. But my lawyer will trump yours, and you will have to return home.”

A humorless smile spread across my face. “Wow, you think your words are convincing me to return? No, husband. Absolutely not. You are rather convincing me to stay away from you.”

“That’s what.” His voice was almost frighteningly steady. “I don’t care. And you can try. It won’t happen. Your place is with me, and you will come back to me. I’m done with your tantrums, Mehek. If you want me to use my power, I will. I’m a billionaire, I have so much money that I can make anything happen. But I’m a good guy, and I don’t want to hurt you. And I will really give this relationship a real chance. I promise you. But if that’s not enough for you, then I will use whatever I have to get you back. And I won’t back down. And… I win win.”

I glared at him, hate plain and clear on my face, and he simply stood there, staring back, neither of us willing to blink first.

Abhoy

A few years ago, I had used every bit of influence I had to erase my past from the internet because I was done with the pity glances I got from everyone. Every article about my engagement, every photograph, every news report about my fiancée’s death slowly disappeared. The internet never truly forgot, but it buried things deep enough that only someone determined could dig them back up.

People forgot too. Sad stories had an expiry date.

For a while, everyone asked me the same questions. How are you? Are you doing better? Have you moved on? The first few times, they genuinely cared. After that, the questions became a formality, spoken more out of obligation than concern. They looked more uncomfortable than I did while asking them, and eventually, even that stopped.

Life moved on. And so did everyone else.

I stopped meeting girls for arranged marriages, and with that, even the whispers faded. People found newer stories to gossip about. Then Maa found Mehek for me.

She belonged to a world completely different from mine.

A quieter world.

A simpler one.

The kind of world where business magazines, society pages, and internet gossip never reached. Our engagement and wedding remained within close family circles, among people who valued relationships more than headlines. No one had any reason to bring up my past.

So Mehek never knew. And neither did her family. Not even her Kaka.

Until now. One person knew.

The look on Romil’s face before he walked out had told me everything. He hadn’t stumbled upon the truth by accident. He had searched for it. Dug through forgotten pages and archived articles until he found what everyone else had long forgotten.

And now… he knew. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Mehek and me alone.

She stood with her chin raised stubbornly, her arms folded tightly across her chest, as though wrapping them around herself would stop me from getting any closer.

I looked at her for a long moment. I had to tell her. I had to tell her that the woman she feared wasn’t waiting somewhere for me.

She wasn’t my future. She couldn’t ever become my future. Because she no longer existed. The truth would hurt.

But not telling her had already hurt us far more. I opened my mouth. But Instead of explaining… we argued.

Again. I tried not to. God knew I tried. I wasn’t twenty-two anymore. I wasn’t interested in winning arguments. But Mehek knew exactly which words to use. Exactly where to strike. Every sentence she spoke chipped away at the little patience I still had left.

Finally, I let out a slow breath.

“That’s what,” I said slowly. “I don’t care. And you can try. It won’t happen.”

She glared at me with all the fire she possessed. I simply looked back. Truthfully, I wasn’t glaring. I didn’t have the strength. The past three weeks had drained something out of me.

I was exhausted all the time. Without her in the house… without hearing her footsteps, her constant complaints, the way she’d mutter under her breath whenever I irritated her… the silence had become unbearable.

The bedroom felt wrong. The dining table felt incomplete. Even coming home after work no longer brought relief. It felt as though someone had quietly removed an essential part of my life, and only after it was gone did I realize how deeply woven it had become into my everyday routine.

I wasn’t sleeping. I barely ate. Work had become the only thing keeping me standing.

When her Kaka called me two days ago and casually mentioned that Mehek would be there tonight, I had agreed before he could even finish speaking.

For the first time in three weeks… I had actually looked forward to something. That realization alone should have frightened me. I still didn’t understand what I felt for Mehek.

I didn’t know when it had begun. I didn’t know whether it was guilt, attachment, responsibility, or something much bigger that I wasn’t yet ready to name.

All I knew was that I wanted her back. Not because she was my wife, not because society expected it, but because my life felt emptier without her in it.

I wanted the girl who argued over everything.

The girl who never filtered her thoughts.

The girl who could infuriate me one moment and unknowingly make me smile the next.

She was stubborn, hot-headed, and completely unpredictable. And somehow… she had become home without me ever realizing it.

She took a step towards me. Then another. I frowned. What was she doing now?

She stopped only a few feet away before suddenly brushing past my shoulder. For a fraction of a second, I thought she had finally decided to hear me out.

Instead… she bolted.

“Mehek!” I called.

I spun around and lunged after her, but the door slammed shut in my face. Then a sharp click followed. Damn, she had locked me in. I grabbed the handle and twisted it hard. But nothing happened.

I rattled it again. Still nothing.

A helpless laugh almost escaped me despite the situation. God… had I actually missed this? This ridiculous, impulsive, completely unpredictable side of her? I rested my forehead against the door for a second before straightening again.

I hadn’t come here to drag her home. As much as I wanted to… I had come here to tell her the truth. And somehow, sher had rattled me, and I said things I shouldnt have. And now… she had managed to lock me inside a room instead.

I exhaled sharply and walked towards the balcony. Looking down into the courtyard, my eyes immediately found familiar faces. Maa, and Baba. They were standing near the entrance.

My stomach dropped. Damn. Had Amitava Bagchi invited my parents too?

Before I could process another thought, I saw Mehek. She had stopped a few feet away, as her eyes landed on my parents. She froze.

For one heartbreaking second, she simply stood there, unable to move. Then her face crumpled. Even from where I stood, I saw the tears fill her eyes.

A sob escaped her. The sound carried all the way up to the balcony. She turned abruptly and ran.

Not away from me. Away from everything.

I ran back to the door and yanked at the handle. It resisted for a second before finally giving way on my second try. The moment it swung open, I found Romil standing outside, his expression hard and unreadable.

“Did you tell her?” he asked.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “No. Before I could say anything, she ran. I don’t know why she ran.”

His jaw tightened and he glared at me, but I didn’t have the patience for another confrontation. Every second felt heavier than the last. Pushing past him, I rushed downstairs, taking two steps at a time. By the time I reached the living room, every pair of eyes had turned towards me.

“Where did Mehek go?” her mother asked, alarm already creeping into her voice.

“I don’t know. She just… ran.” Even to my own ears, the explanation sounded useless.

The worry that spread across her face twisted something deep inside my chest. Just then my parents walked in through the entrance. I barely acknowledged them with a nod before rushing outside, scanning the road with frantic eyes.

It was evening and… the roads were too crowded. People moved about as if nothing had happened, conversations floated through the air, scooters weaved past cars, and somewhere a child laughed. The world carried on while mine threatened to come apart.

Then I saw her.

She was some distance away, walking quickly down the road. Relief hit me so suddenly that my knees almost gave way. I broke into a sprint, weaving through pedestrians, my heart pounding louder than my footsteps. The distance between us slowly disappeared until I was close enough for my voice to reach her.

“Mehek,” I called, breathless. “Just stop. What’s there to run from? I’m just here to talk, baby. Please stop.”

She stopped.

Slowly, she turned around and lifted one hand, silently telling me not to come any closer. I obeyed, stopping a few feet away. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I tried to steady my breathing.

“Just listen to me.”

Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks still damp from tears she had probably wiped away in a hurry.

“I’m not coming back. Ever.”

“Mehek… don’t say that.”

“No.” She shook her head, her voice trembling despite the determination in it. “You will never love me. All I ever wanted was love. I would have happily lived in a cramped apartment. I would have happily stayed poor. But I will never live without love. I won’t. And you cannot love me. I know that.”

Every word landed like a blow.

“How do you know that?” I asked quietly. “And how do you know I haven’t already fallen for you?”

She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of happiness in it. It sounded broken.

“Because if you had… you would have come already. You would have done what someone in love does.”

“Mehek…”

She turned abruptly.

Everything happened in the space of a heartbeat.

The sharp screech of brakes ripped through the air. A horn blared. My eyes widened as a car came into view far too late. The bumper struck her before either of us could react.

“No!”

Her body lifted into the air as though it weighed nothing, then crashed onto the road several feet away.

For one endless second, the entire world went silent.

I couldn’t move.

I simply stared.

Then the screams began.

People rushed towards her from every direction. Vehicles stopped. Someone shouted for help while another pointed angrily at the driver, who stumbled out of the car, pale and shaken.

“Not my mistake, man,” he kept saying, panic thick in his voice. “She came in front of the car. I had no time to stop.”

His words barely reached me. All I could see was Mehek lying unnaturally still on the road. The crowd formed around her, hiding her from view, and something inside me finally snapped. A loud horn jolted me back to reality.

I ran. “Move!”

I pushed through the gathering crowd, shoving shoulders aside until I reached her. Dropping to my knees beside her, I gathered her carefully into my arms. I saw blood… there was too much blood.

“Mehek…” My voice broke. “Mehek… can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even the flutter of her eyelashes.

“Please…” My vision blurred as tears spilled down my face. “You can’t leave me… not like this… not like her. You can’t leave me too.”

People had gone quiet around us. Some watched with pity. Some whispered among themselves. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone raising a phone, recording everything. I didn’t care.

Phone.

The thought struck me like lightning. With trembling fingers, I pulled mine from my pocket and called Baba. He answered almost immediately.

“Beta, where are you?”

“Five minutes from Mehek’s house,” I choked out. “The road towards the station. Come quickly, Baba. Mehek… Mehek has met with an accident.”

There was complete silence on the other end. Then his voice came back, strained with panic.

“What?”

“Please…” I could barely breathe. “I cannot lose her. I cannot live without her. Come fast. Bring the car.”

“Don’t worry. I’m coming.”

I ended the call. My hands shook so violently that I almost dropped the phone. I slipped it back into my pocket and bent over Mehek again. Very carefully, I lifted her into my arms.

She was limp. Far too limp.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I searched desperately for some sign that she was still with me. I pressed two trembling fingers against the side of her neck.

There. A pulse. It was weak, but it was there. She was breathing. Barely, but she was breathing. I closed my eyes for the briefest second, holding her a little tighter, silently begging her not to leave me.

I sobbed as I held her against me, my arms tightening around her as though I could somehow keep her here by refusing to let go. My tears fell onto her hair, disappearing into the familiar strands that still carried the faint scent of jasmine.

I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.

The words repeated inside my head like a prayer.

You only wanted love, and I couldn’t give you that. But I love you so much. I love you more than anything in this world, more than her. I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know how it happened. Somewhere between your endless arguments, your stubbornness, your laughter, and your dreams… you became my whole world. Please don’t leave me. Mehek… I can’t lose you.

Another horn blared, followed by the screech of tires.

A car came to a halt beside us.

I looked up through blurred vision as Baba, Romil, and Mehek’s father rushed towards us. Mehek’s father fell to his knees beside her, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. He kept calling her name with trembling hands, while Romil stood frozen for a heartbeat before forcing himself into action.

“Carefully,” Baba instructed, his own voice shaking.

Together, they lifted Mehek as gently as they could. A few people from the crowd stepped forward to help. I barely registered any of it. My mind refused to process what was happening.

This couldn’t be happening again.

Not again.

We settled her inside the back seat. I climbed in beside her and carefully pulled her head onto my lap, terrified of hurting her even more. Her face had turned frighteningly pale, and every few seconds I bent closer, searching desperately for the rise and fall of her breathing.

My clothes were soaked in blood, but it didn’t matter. She did. The drive to the hospital lasted barely twenty minutes. But it felt like twenty years.

The moment we reached the hospital, nurses rushed outside with a stretcher.

“She’s breathing,” I said before anyone could ask. My voice cracked so badly that I barely recognized it. “But she’s unconscious. Please… please save her.”

The doctor quickly examined her with his stethoscope before giving brisk instructions to the staff. Within seconds, they wheeled her inside at a run, disappearing through the swinging doors towards the operation theatre.

I stood there staring after her until I could no longer see the stretcher. Only then did my legs finally give way, but arms wrapped around me before I could fall.

“Maa…”

I didn’t even realize she had arrived until then. I buried my face against her shoulder like a broken child.

“I cannot lose my life again,” I whispered hoarsely. “I cannot, Maa.”

She held me tighter, one hand moving over my back in slow circles.

“Everything will be okay,” she whispered. “Calm down, Abhoy. Maa Durga is watching over her. Trust her.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before another sob followed.

“She took Yagini away. So why wouldn’t she take my Mehek too?”

My mother’s hand paused for just a second before it resumed its comforting rhythm. She had no answer for that.

None of us did.

After a few moments, I stepped away and turned towards Mehek’s mother. Folding my hands before her, I lowered my head.

“I didn’t fight with her upstairs,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I just begged her to come back. I might have tried to manipulate her… but I really just wanted her to come back.”

She stared at me blankly, as though she hadn’t even heard me.

“I swear… she ran. She locked me inside the room.” My throat tightened painfully. “If I had reached her one minute earlier… I would never have let her step onto that road.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Shock. Pain. Realization. But no words came.

Just then, Mehek’s father walked towards us, tears flowing freely down his face. The moment her mother saw him, whatever strength she had been holding onto disappeared. She stumbled into his arms and broke down completely, her cries echoing through the hospital corridor.

The sound hollowed me out. I quietly stepped away. Someone had to remain functional. I quickly ran to the washroom and washed my hands that had blood. I wiped my face with both hands and waited. I didn’t know how long but then I checked my phone and saw and hour had passed. I ran and searched the corridor until I spotted the doctor emerging from a room. I hurried towards him before he could disappear again.

“Doctor?”

He stopped.

“We need to run several tests,” he explained calmly. “We have to rule out any internal injuries and internal bleeding. But she has regained consciousness. She has been transferred to the ICU.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“Can I meet her?”

“Not yet, Mr. Chatterjee. We relieved the pressure that had built up in her head, and she’s conscious, but she still needs further evaluation.”

“Just one minute.” My voice cracked again. “Please.”

The doctor studied my face for a long moment before nodding.

“One minute.”

Relief nearly made my knees buckle. He led me towards the ICU.

The antiseptic smell grew stronger with every step. Machines beeped steadily inside as he pushed open the door. Several patients occupied the room, separated by curtains and monitors. My eyes searched desperately until they found her.

Mehek.

She looked so small lying on that hospital bed.

There was a bandage around her head. An IV line disappeared into the back of her hand. The monitor beside her beeped steadily, and somehow that simple sound became the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

Her eyes slowly shifted towards me. For a moment they seemed confused. Then recognition settled in.

I folded my hands before her. “I’ll divorce you if that’s what you want,” I whispered. “I’ll do everything you ask. Just… please get better.”

She didn’t answer. She simply kept looking at me. A few seconds later, her parents entered the ICU. The moment she saw them, tears gathered in her eyes.

“Sorry, Maa,” she whispered weakly. “I should have been more careful.”

Then she turned towards her father.

“Baba… I’m so sorry.”

He immediately reached for her hand.

“No… no, beta. Everything will be alright. Don’t think about anything else. Just get better.”

The doctor came then, and asked us to step out. And we did.

As the ICU door closed behind us, I realized something that hurt far more than I expected. She had spoken to her parents. She hadn’t spoken a single word to me.

I didn’t want to feel bad, I really didn’t. But I did.

She wanted love. But… so did I.

All I had ever wanted was a peaceful life with someone I could come home to, someone whose happiness mattered more than my own.

And Mehek… I loved taking care of her. I really did. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, that person had become Mehek. I loved watching her fight with me over the smallest things. I loved hearing her argue, dream, complain, laugh, and chase impossible ideas.

I had been so consumed by my guilt, by my past, and by the ghost I refused to let go of, that I never noticed the truth standing quietly beside me.

I had already fallen in love with my wife. And by the time I understood it… she had already walked out of my life.

And now… it was too late. She was gone.